


One Little Difference

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Asperger Syndrome, Autism Spectrum, Dean-Centric, Family Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Not Beta Read, Not Canon Compliant, Racism, Sam is a Good Brother, Social Anxiety, asperger!Dean, author knows her stuff, autistic Dean
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-26
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-08-17 12:13:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 12,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8143624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: How would Sam and Dean's relationship differ if Dean had been diagnosed with an Autism Spectrum Disorder as a child?What stays the same? Does this hinder or aid their lives as hunters? And how does John react?Or the one where Dean has Asperger's and Sam worries too much sometimes. Not a rewrite cause I don't have patience for that, definitely an AU with lots of non-canon compliant plot.  But fixed things (events or aspects that can't be changed remain. Season six's Titanic episode is a great example. Some things will change when one minor detail is altered while others the ones that are 'fixed' remain the same no matter what parallel universe.)





	1. Pre-storm Thunder

**Author's Note:**

> Before you assume I just like putting characters through angsty hell, I actually grew up with my best friend's sibling having Aspergers. I learned a lot of the nuances about eye contact and speech before he was diagnosed. I grew up understanding his need for schedule and familiarity along with things like his monotone voice. His OCD was hard to adapt to, but I learned to not touch certain things (his marbles were off limits and even if he didn't see you touch them he always knew)  
> I also see two sisters with it and him on a weekly basis and I have tutored them. So I know what working with them is like and their individual uniqueness. But I will not in any way use them as characters or their particular needs in this story.

Proloque:

John Winchester blinked at the doctor numbly. Surely his ears were playing tricks on him. He could face a wendigo or a werewolf without a second thought or even a hint of fear, but to process what he'd just been told seemed a million times harder than it had been to accept the existence of monsters.

His heart plummeted fiercely and his boys stuffed into the chair beside him could feel the sudden wave of tension from their father. Sam was the one who spoke, Dean was still attempting to block out the horrible discomfort from the recent tests. He had always been uncomfortable with unfamiliar situations and rarely spoke to strangers unless necessary. So the combination of the two had brought him close to what John called a 'freak out'.  "Daddy?" The six year old questioned. All he knew was that Dean was not well.

That was why they were here, to find out why Dean was such a picky child. It seemed that the older he got the more introverted he became talking to Sam and John mostly. He also had strange moments in the grocery store where he would complain the noise was too loud and the lights too bright. These occasions had begun to test the single father's patience. It hadn't been until Bobby Singer suggested a visit to the doctor that John even considered Dean's behavior wasn't a choice.

Now he wished he could just take back agreeing to have Dean looked at. 

Because this, this was too much for him right now. He loved Dean he did, but this couldn't be true. Dean was a bright kid, he could make repairs on the '67 Impala he drove without supervision. Dean could name the parts and functions of the motor from recall. He quoted movies, albeit he sometimes didn't make sense. He talked just fine, the only time he went monotone was when he was scared or didn't want to talk. Most of the time he was fine, though now that John thought  about it he could see the signs. Oh how he'd mistaken them in his limited contact with his sons, chalking it up to the hard nomadic life they lived.

But Dean never made eye contact and John had to yell for it on occasion.  Not even Sam could get those wide greens to stand still on his face. The kid liked specific clothing, protesting scratchier articles and almost whining about wearing them. He liked certain foods and refused to eat others, he got nauseous if something smelled or tasted too strong for him.  And he was good with mechanics. He didn't always make sense when he cracked humor. And despite his training with weapons and guns, Dean was sometimes clumsy in specific situations.

"I've been staring it in the face and didn't even notice." The hunter murmured miserably.

"Mister Winchester, I am sorry, but it's also not your fault." Doctor Jentry apologized softly. He tapped the paperwork on the desk in front of them. "Unfortunately we still know little on the matter. What I can tell you, is that Dean is smart and strong. With proper guidance and coping methods he should be able to live a normal independent life as an adult."

"What's wrong with me?" Dean whispered at his father. Sam frowned at his big brother. Nothing was wrong with him as far as the youngest Winchester was concerned.

John looked at Dean gently, a sadness in his eyes the boy hadn't seen since his mother died. It made his stomach knot up, because that meant something was wrong, really wrong. "I-" The single father stopped and ran a hand through his hair. "Nothing." He said with finality. 

The doctor nodded encouragingly. The first mistake a parent made was insisting that their child with Autism or Asperger's was defective. When parents equated a developmental disorder to a disease like the plague it destroyed any hope of the child ever achieving their potential.

"You just work differently than normal people." Jentry filled the curious silence. "You have some truly fantastic gifts Dean, you also have your fair share of struggles. Everyone has those Dean. Yours are just unique to you." He smiled at the ten year old boy.

John relaxed and nodded. "You aren't a freak. Neither one of you." John added so Sam knew he wasn't being forgotten. God knew both his boys had issues, and maybe a few were his fault. But no one could blame Mary's death on Sam, and Dean had been born with his condition. John had just never noticed it, and maybe since Dean had been Mary's first she hadn't recognized the early signs either. How young and unprepared they had been. It was a thought he lamented over.

Dean worried his lip and then turned to John eyes hitting the wall behind his father's head. "Promise?"

"Of course." The man affirmed. Because Dean wasn't broken, he was certainly different, he'd need specific attention, but he was still his son.

* * *

* * *

 

 Bobby Singer watched the battered family climb into the house. He patted John's shoulder in support. "How's he taking it?" 

"Better than me I think. Sam's been real good about it though." The father admitted looking his friend in the eyes. "I just-" He paused not even knowing where to begin sorting his emotions. He never was good at explaining things. 

Bobby nodded helplessly. What did you say to a man who just learned his eldest child was going to spend the rest of his life with a label most people looked down on?  What did you say to the normal younger brother who would spend his days getting insincere pity about living with a 'disabled' family member? More importantly, what did you say to the kid diagnosed with Asperger's? 

Because he was the one who had to deal with it in ways they didn't, wouldn't, understand. He was the one who had to struggle with his body's quirks and inconsistencies. He was the one kids would make more fun of for having a documented 'illness'. 

And how did this effect John's hunting? Hell the life messed with his head. What would it do to Dean who by human standards was neuroatypical? 

"Stay here as long as you need." Bobby offered suddenly. He knew children like Dean needed stability, though that was all he'd ever picked up on. Unless you were confronted with such people daily it was impossible to know anything of use. Sure anyone could spew whatever nonsense they concocted on the matter, but it wouldn't help Dean to go about this blindly.

"We can learn through this together." The older man suggested.

John stared wide eyed. "You don't have to help." 

"But I want to." Bobby said with a smile. It was sad, full of the regret the hunter carried. But there was a genuine desire to be of use as well. "I kinda like being 'Uncle' Bobby." 

John nodded half to himself and sighed. Tired eyes landed on the boys standing in the doorway watching them. Sam didn't understand much of anything. And Dean? Well Dean was trying to not freak out. 

"Are we going to stay for the summer?" Dean asked hopefully. His eyes hovered between the two men never landing on them.

"Yes." John answered noting the hopeful way Dean's eyes were shining. 

"Yay!" The brothers cheered in unison. And for a moment John knew it was ok.


	2. trouble with dad

Dean knocked on the door softly, maybe too softly. But he didn't want to try again, not with the dried paint scraping against his skin and irritating it.

Footsteps, a lock sliding, hinges creaked as the door was pulled open. And there was Sam taller than last time, not surprising, and the shocked look on his face.

"Dean?" Sam asked incredulous. Why was his big brother here? What was happening? He certainly hadn't noticed anything weird. The pre law student always listened for signs that something out of the ordinary was going on.

"Heya Sam!" Dean grinned as his eyes landed just above Sam's head. 

Sam thought about initiating a hug, but he didn't know if Dean was near a sensory overload or not. So the older brother took the step to close the gap and wrapped his arms around Sam.

Sam hugged back and smiled. "What are you doing out here? Does Dad know?"

"That's why I'm here." Dean admitted softly. 

"Dad went on a hunting trip and he hasn't been home in a few days."

Sam rolled his eyes. Dad always had a habit of taking off for longer than necessary. "You talk to him on the phone?" 

Dean shook his head as he followed Sam in and the door shut behind him. 

"How long exactly?" Sam asked. 

"Too long." Dean replied. 

"So why weren't you with him?" Sam questioned gently. 

"Hunting on my own." Dean returned simply. 

"But you can't get a hold of Dad and he stayed out longer than he said he would." Sam summed up the situation. His brother just nodded and sighed. 

"Since when did you start hunting alone?" But the tone of his voice was impressed. Dean had always been the one John could count on to obey and listen. 

Dean smirked. "Since I saved him from a crazy ghost." 

"You always were able to focus on the hunt better than either of us." Sam noted. 

Dean was about to say something when a figure turned on a light. He flinched at the sudden brightness and the sound of the lamp buzzing. 

"Sam?" A female voice queried in concern.

"It's ok Jess, just my brother Dean." He assured turning to look at her. 

Dean glanced in her direction, let his eyes rove over her quickly, and then settle on the wall behind her. "Dean this is Jess my girlfriend, Jess, Dean."

Jess frowned when his eyes stayed glued to something beyond her. She offered a hand and Dean took it lightly the shake barely there. This puzzled her even more. 

 Dean recognized the curiosity and looked towards the younger man. "You didn't tell your girlfriend?" The frown on Jess worsened. 

"Didn't ever need to, I just told her I had an awesome older brother." Sam shrugged. Dean smiled at the compliment. Sure watching Sam leave for Stanford had been hard, any kind of change always was for him, but he and Sam had been keeping up correspondence through phones. 

"Tell me what?" Jess asked curiously. Dean didn't like the thought of speaking to a girl he didn't know, he knew Sam had been seeing her, but he had yet to meet her. 

"I have Asperger's." "Dean has Asperger's." The brothers said in unison. 

Jess stared. 

Sam reached a hand to her shoulder. "You ok?" 

Dean stepped into the kitchen wordlessly. He figured it was better to let her process this. He knew he valued space when processing changes. It wasn't like he didn't understand most things. He just had a harder time accepting changes or ignoring sensory input he didn't need to pay attention to. About the only time he could ignore his heightened senses was when he was working under the hood or on a hunt.

He heard Jess finally snap out of her shock.

"So your brother has Asperger's?" 

"He was diagnosed at ten." Sam answered. "But it's not like what they show in the movies, Dean's a capable adult, drives his own car." 

Silence while Dean found a beer and pulled it out. He popped the top and took a swig. It tasted good, not as good as his favorite, but decent.

"Is he ok?" Jess asked.

"Yeah, he just said that Dad's not answering his phone. He went on a hunting trip and isn't checking in." Dean stepped back into the living room.

"Why would your father leave him alone?" Jess asked in annoyance. As if Dean couldn't take care of himself.

"I live and work on my own." Dean informed, eyes on his beer. "I just see the world through a different lense than you."

That's what the therapist Bobby hired for that first summer had said. And it was true, Dean did see things differently than Sam or John. 

Jess blushed. "I'm sorry, I don't really know anything about Asperger's." 

"Most people don't." Sam said. "And because each person with it has different symptoms and levels of severity it's impossible to give a set of rules."

Dean nodded. 

Jess looked at them and smiled. "So what's up with your Dad?" She asked.

"Missing." Dean murmured before taking a swallow. "Went to go hunt and hasn't called. He usually gives me a ring every forty-eight hours." 

Sam knew that meant something. Because their father knew better than to cause Dean undue stress like that. Dean expected the call on the dot. It was a schedule for him, and he needed that more than he liked admitting.

So if Dad wasn't calling his oldest than something was up and that meant he went to his next stabilizer. Sam was a fixture in Dean's life, even away at school Sam talked to Dean regularly. Every thirty-six hours Dean would call and just say hi or ask how he was. It was just the need to hear a familiar voice.

"Well find Dad." Sam promised. 

Jess looked at him. "But your interview?" She reminded.

"If anything they'll understand a family emergency." Sam answered. "I'm sure we can track Dad down over the weekend." 

Dean nodded. "Already know where he is." 

"I'll go pack." Sam kissed Jess then headed to the bedroom. 

 Dean looked around Jess. 

"So how was the drive here?" Jess asked.

"Fine." He replied simply.

"You hungry?" She asked.  "I have some fruit or veggies." 

Dean shook his head. "Dean doesn't like the texture of most vegetables." Sam announced his return. "But I'm sure he'd love to finish off that pie."

Dean perked up at the word pie. He nodded eagerly. "Yes please?" He managed to give Jess a smile and she nodded.

After a slice of key lime pie and a few more promises of returning to Jess by Monday they left.

Dean drove and though Jess looked concerned she wisely kept her mouth shut and waved with a grin.

Sam sighed. "So Dad went missing huh?" 

 

 

 


	3. Chaos Rising

They didn't find their father. 

 

But they put a Woman in White down before leaving Jericho.

The return was not what they expected. 

Sam exited the Impala while Dean remained seated with the engine running. He had a new set of coordinates to plug in and head for. Seemed like John was leaving work in his absence. At least it was a sign that he was alive. Finding the hunter's journal had made Dean feel sick, until they saw the numbers with the eldest boy's name. 

Dean wasn't coming in. He didn't feel like socializing after the events with Constance Welsh. Falling off a bridge hadn't exactly done him any favors. He was going to take a rest at a motel for the night and then head on to keep up the search for their dad.

Sam looked at him. "Sure you won't come in?" He asked.

"Nah, got to keep looking." Dean replied eyes on something to his brother's left and flashing in mild worry. 

"When you find Dad kick his ass for me?" Sam asked. That last rueful fight still wormed at Sam's gut. 

"After I take my licks, sure thing Sammy." Dean forced a smile and sighed. "I'll talk to you later." He shifted gears and pulled away. 

Sam watched his brother go and then headed inside the house. 

Though something felt off, and an unfamiliar scent wavered on the air in their bedroom briefly, he jotted it as tired from hunting while obviously out of practice.  He flopped onto the bed with closed eyes and a peaceful look. He was home, he'd helped Dean without getting severely injured or pulled away from his new college life. 

Sure Dean thought of it ominously, but he often felt out of touch with normal things. That was to be expected, his inability to accept normal American life stemmed from both his upbringing as a hunter and his Asperger's. Normal didn't have any business bothering Dean Winchester. He was beyond normal and ttoo flighty to let it catch him like it had Sam.

Except something bigger was just beginning to sink it's claws in Sam Winchester. Fate, destiny, call it what you will, but it was snarling the youngest Winchester before he could realize the trap he'd stumbled into. The trap that had faked him a normal life. 

The falsehood that was a million moments of seemingly normal interaction over his childhood. How could he know he'd been kept under protective eyes?

How could he know he was about to have his semblance of perfect stripped away? Maybe he should have told Dean about the nightmares of Jess burning. But that seemed silly. Dean had finally explained what had happened to their mother after years of Sam's begging. The vision of the woman from a few worn out photos burning on a ceiling coupled with his desire to obtain both his normal life and Jess as more than a romantic venture had been the cocktail that created his dreams. Because he wasn't psychic or anything right? Right.

Except when he opened his eyes to moisture he screamed. There was Jess....on the ceiling blood pooling from her abdomen and then as soon as he saw his nightmare turned reality the world blazed into bright scorching flames.

"Jess! NO!" Sam screamed.

But it was too late.

Dean had turned around when he caught Sam's knife, the one he'd taken to college with him, sitting on the bench beside him. Forgetfulness certainly wasn't good for a future lawyer.  He got to the house in time to see flames from the second story.

For a moment his brain stalled. This, this was the scene from twenty two years back. When dear sweet Mary had been taken from her family. He bolted in to find Sam choking on smoke and clawing at the floor to escape.  Dean grimly looked up at the quickly disintegrating form of one poor helpless woman.

Once outside Dean made a face taking in deep breaths of fresh air. The scent of smoke and burning flesh was a pungent odor and it didn't sit well with him. Sam coughed on the ground beside him as firetrucks screamed in the distance. Dean managed to get hold of himself by breathing in the deep scent of the leather jacket he wore. It was a familiar smell associated with their father.

He sat next to Sam while neighbors came running out. Firemen rushed in from seemingly nowhere. Sam watched silently, he'd shut his mind off when Dean pulled him out. At the moment he was staring at a burning home. Fire was a strange thing, it had ruined their lives before and yet they relied on it to kill ghosts. 

Dean wrapped an arm around Sam and explained everything. The younger brother knew Dean hated having to talk to strangers so much but he couldn't make his brain function again yet. Because as soon as he came back online it would be to mourn. It would be inconsolable grief.

It had happened again.

This time it was Dean who didn't understand the emotions of Sam. Dean and John both remembered Mary. Sam however did not, so he never quite got the grudge part of hunting things, he also didn't understand how Dean could do it and view it as he did. Dean saw the work of heroes, battle torn and hardened in experience. But always the ones to shoulder burdens others could not, to take arms against grand mythical evils and restore peace and happiness. Sam saw it as a screwed up shitty excuse of a life, sure it helped others but at what cost to the hunters? And Sam didn't have a memory to get angry over, to fuel his hatred for anything not human. Except now he did. Now he had his reason to avenge those lost to monsterkind. 

The funeral was beautiful. The ceremony simple but elegant. Just the way Jess would have wanted it. Luckily the Moores weren't the kind of people to point a finger just so they could have someone to blame. After all the oven had been on when Sam arrived home. Apparently Jess had been baking cookies, though Sam and Dean knew it was the cover up to keep from being suspects for arson.

Dean didn't go. Said it wasn't his place and Sam probably needed the space. Seemed the older brother knew what he was talking about. Sam was glad to not have Dean there to make fun of his crying.  Though he doubted his brother would have done such a thing.

Now that Jess was gone what did Sam have? An interview he missed, another lonely few years till his BAR exam and then what? Go on living like the world was ok? Because now it wasn't.

When Sam threw his duffle in after Dean's he was grimly determined to finish what the bastard they'd never even met had started.

Dean only raised an eyebrow and smiled. He was glad to have Sam back, though the reason for his return well and truly sucked. "I'm coming. I want to find what killed Jess, killed Mom. And for that we need to find Dad." 

Dean nodded in agreement. They would head for the coordinates. That was after all their only clue to finding their father. 


	4. A Familiar Beat

After a wendigo, ghost, demon, urban legend, shape shifter, hook man, and cursed bugs, the boys found themselves in a crazy predicament. 

"Tell me again what you saw Sam."

"A woman begging for help. Asking me to save her. Something bad is going to happen. And I know where too. Our old house."

Dean felt sick.

"I promised myself I wouldn't go back there." Dean ground out. He'd been adamant in never returning to the home that had failed to keep them safe.

"Besides you ain't no psychic." Dean added.

"But Dean I dreamed of Jess' death just the way I saw it unfold when I returned to our place that night."

Well that changed things a bit. Sam was having prophetic dreams? Foretelling the future?

Sam could tell this was hard for his big brother. But someone was in danger. Forget that Sam was suffering a psychic vision, they needed to go save that poor woman. " Isn't that what this was all about? Saving people?"

Dean glared in Sam's direction but said nothing more. 

A couple days later they pulled up to the old house.  A woman named Jenny answered the door. 

Sam smiled at her and explained this was once their home. When he gave her their names, she lit up. "I found something that belongs to you?" She said. 

She vanished and returned with a box. "This belong to you boys?" The mother of two asked as she turned to her young son.

"Yeah." Sam said as he opened it. Dean was still tight lipped and nervous.  He fidgeted as he took a peek inside. Sure enough those were old photo of theirs. Dean's fingers flew into the box and pulled them up. They looked so sweet and happy. The four of them. 

"I remember this." 

Sam looked at his brother questioningly. He wanted the story behind it. "So they are yours?" Jenny asked patting the elder's shoulder. 

Sam watched the light fade from two green eyes as his brother pulled away from the unfamiliar touch. He frowned deeply as he put a few inches between himself and the new owner of the house. 

"Yes." Sam said. Dean had gone silent once more his eyes dancing over Jenny. They zipped from side to side as he put the photos back in the box. Maybe he'd share the memories with Sam in a motel room.

Jenny stared at Dean her brows furrowed. She'd only patted his shoulder. If anything she should be more afraid of the tall strong young men in her home.

Sam sighed heavily. "So what do you know about this place?" He needed to get answers because this woman was definitely the person he had seen in his dreams.

"I know there was a fire a long time ago." She shrugged. "Why?" 

"That fire took our mother." Dean murmured bluntly. Sam gave him a face and Jenny gasped. 

"Someone died here?" She squeaked out in mild terror.  Her eyes were wide and she held her son close to her.

"It was faulty wiring." Sam delivered the rehearsed lie. "Looks like everything's been updated though. The rebuilding process must have been long." 

"You didn't stay here?" 

Both men shook their heads. "Our Dad couldn't live here after that. We traveled around after that. He was a marine." Sam liked to use the fact that John was in the military to keep people from thinking the worst about getting moved around. 

Jenny nodded seeming to unserstand.

"Well thank you for these." Sam said turning to leave but Dean made a gesture and then cleared his throat before finally speaking to the woman.  

"Anything strange happen here? Lights flicker? Radio start playing on it's own?"

Jenny frowned completely unnerved by Dean's line of thought. "No why?"

"It's signs of faulty wiring." Sam offered lamely before snagging Dean's sleeve and leading him out. 

Sam released him on the porch. "What's with you man?" 

Dean wasn't answering though. He was staring up at the second floor. The floor where he had seen his mother on the ceiling burning and then been made in charge of Sam's life.

"You know, I carried you out?" He said in a far away voice.

Halting Sam turned back to him eyes wide. "I thought Dad did." 

Shaking his head the shorter man made a tight lipped smile. "Dad handed you to me and told me to get you out." 

Sam nodded as he got into the driver's side. Dean passed him the keys. It was obvious he was in no shape to drive back to the seedy part of town to find a motel. 

Looking through the box Dean smiled at some old artwork he'd made his mother. Sam watched from the corner of his eye. His brother rarely spoke of their original home or the simple normal life they'd once lived.

One had a garage in it and a picture of John with some other mechanics. "We should talk to him." Dean pointed at a face he remembered. The guy had come to dinner a time or two when he was little. 

 John's old friend pointed them to psychics. In fact John seemed to have learned quickly that no human could have killed his wife. 

Sam did that lame thing where he opened the phone book and started eliminating psychics that hadn't been in Lawrence long enough to have helped their grieving widower father.

Dean hated this part of hunting. Looking for answers like this was a pain and it often bored the elder brother to no end. He listened only partially as Sam rattled off the ridiculous titles and names of liars looking to line their pockets with the money of poor saps.

"Missouri Mosely." Sam muttered not even trying to hold his brother's attention anymore. 

"I went to Missouri and I learned the truth." Dean suddenly said. His voice was soft and flat, a perfect monotone. Sam shivered. Something about the emotionless tone always surprised him. Even though it was his big brother the dead voice he used when scared or when extremely upset always felt wrong. Sam had never dared mentioning it to Dean. Not after the torture his brother experienced at the hands of children and adults alike. 

Bobby had told him to get over it and remind himself it was just his brother and there was no changing him. So he told himself it was just Dean being Dean. 

"What?" Sam asked in confusion.

"Dad's journal, first page." Dean replied. He was good at recalling things of emotional importance he had looked at, but ask him to recall the textbook he had just read and there was nothing even if he'd just read the page.

"I thought he meant a place not a person." Dean looked towards Sam.  "We should go talk to her."

Sam just nodded ok as he processed what his brother had just said. 

Missouri seemed to be waiting for them. And she smiled warmly. "You boys really grew up." The dark skinned woman murmured as she closed the door behind them. "Sam and Dean Winchester. It's good to see your faces in person. Please have a seat."

They sat nervously. Only not human things had ever known their names before introductions. Dean's eyes wavered over the short woman as he took in her features. Sam forced a smile and looked directly into her eyes.

"Boy don't you dare put your feet on my coffee table." She snapped at Dean who hadn't even begun to move. He froze a moment and seemed to think. "Don't make me smack you." She added. 

Dean stared wide eyed a moment before fidgeting and looking at the floor.

"Now don't say it." The woman held up a hand. "I know why you're here and I can help."

"You can?" Sam asked. 

"Of course I can." She replied before settling into her seat. "You want to know what's in the house?"

The brothers nodded mutely. Dean was trying to not feel freaked out. He watched her warily. Sam knew Dean wasn't doing too hot. This case was already painful for him and now it was worse. 

That morning the poor repair man that came to fix the disposal had lost his hand. And he swore up and down that he had unplugged the dam appliance.

"You tell me what you want me to do."  The woman offered with a smile. 

"Could you come and see what's up at the house?" Sam asked. 

"Sure thing hon." She rose. "Let me just get some things." She vanished. 

"You ok man?" Sam asked.

Dean shrugged. "I'm not liking this Sam. Something feels off."

"Me neither but we can't do anything else."

Missouri reappeared and then they left to the house that they had once lived in.

What was waiting for them wasn't Jenny and her children. A familiar black truck sat in the drive like an ominous sign.

Dean almost forgot to park the Impala before stepping out. Sam was barely behind him as they passed their father's vehicle. Missouri smiled wanely. She was glad he'd decided to reveal himself.

The front door swung open and they all turned to see the figure who stepped out or the building.

Sam and Dean broke into a run racing up the stairs.

"How dare you!" Sam shouts.

"Why didn't you answer?" Asks Dean.

"Afterwards." John Winchester replied simply. He smiled at his sons and the psychic before gesturing for them to enter. 

It was obviously time for a lot of answers to come out of the woodwork. 

 


	5. A Painful Revelation

John ushered them in. "Missouri you got the hex bags?"

"Right here." She pulled them out of her satchel and handed them over. 

John silently handed one to each boy who were staring at him incredulously. Sam held up a hand before their father spoke again. "What's going on here?"

"Two spirits. One's a poltergeist the other is peaceful. I intend to banish the evil one." John replied.

"What about the peaceful spirit?" Dean asked.

Missouri answered the question. "Can't be too sure but we think it might be your mother's." 

John glared at the psychic sharply. He hadn't wanted to get everyone's hopes up.  "Maybe. It could be another ghost."

Sam snapped. "You've been missing for months and now you show up?"

"I'll explain in a moment I promise. The information I was getting, it was too dangerous for both of you." John pointed at the walls. "Sam take north, Dean get east, Missouri you got west and I take south. Put them in the walls boys." Then he turned toward the north wall of the house. 

Sam and Dean darted off in their given directions. They had to move fast before the bastard caught on. Besides it was more important to cleanse the home and save the little family rather than argue about their own problems. The job always ended up coming first.

Sam glared angrily as he smashed in the east wall and threw it in. Anger was bubbling in his soul. He wanted answers. What he wanted most of all was an explanation for why he just up and left Dean. Their father knew that while the elder son was capable of living and hunting alone, he found it hard. Sam managed to get the bag into the wall right as a cord from a lamp snaked around his neck and began to constrict his airways.

Dean had the kitchen and he hurried to pound a hole through the wall.  Dad thought the ghost might be their mother? How was he supposed to handle that info? Somehow he found himself hoping it wasn't Mary. That would just complicate things more.  Sam was mad. Dean knew this by the fact he had interupted John. If Sam weren't so pissed he would have calmly listened and then asked questions.

Dean dropped his bag through the hole and as he turned the sound of metal scraping startled him. He turned to see several butcher knives aimed for him floating at eye level. 

"Aw crap." He muttered. Couldn't they have it easy just once?

He bolted and the knives gave chase. He threw open a cabinet door and dove behind it dropping to his belly on the floor in case they went through. The knives buried themselves into the wood. After catching his breath he went in search of Sammy. 

He found him on the floor choking with an electric cord around hid neck. It took a moment to register. "Hurry!" Dean shouted in panic. He grabbed the cord and tried to pry it loose. He succeeded in giving Sam enough opening to suck in a breath. 

"Dean!" The younger brother pointed at a knife hovering behind the other's head. 

Dean yanked away from Sam and the blade followed. The point gleamed maliciously in the light. Backing into the wall he ducked and dodged several fatal stabs. It barely missed his manhood. 

Missouri called out that hers was in and then it was up to John. The blade faltered enough for Sam who'd been momentarily forgotten to grab it and drive it into the floor. 

Sam and Dean helped each other up and walked for the front room where they would all meet up once the nasty ghost was evicted. Except when John had placed his the poltergeist didn't vanish.

The thing slammed the brothers into two opposite walls. It was clearly more powerful than some little bag of magic. Sam and Dean were completely pinned. 

"Leave them alone!" The voice was not familiar. Dean frowned maybe he'd heard it before?

Sam gasped when a flaming figure appeared before them. It approached and they feared it was their end. But then the figure took a form that both boys knew either from memory or photograph.

Mary Winchester.

"Mom?" Dean murmured. 

John and Missouri appeared and the psychic held some other mumbo jumbo magic that she waved around. It was some kind of cleansing incense that was burning. She thrust the smoking end towards the brothers and the hold on them wavered. 

"Mary?" John whispered incredulously. 

She turned sad green eyes on him. "I never wanted them to live like this. I made a deal so they wouldn't, but it was that very deal that put them here. Sam, I'm sorry. Dean." She said softly. 

Then the poltergeist attacked again and Missouri was pinned behind a dresser and Sam was choking again and Dean slammed into a wall hard. The pain sang through his overactive nerves and he fought from losing control. 

"No!" John shouted and he grabbed the dropped incense and lit them again. But the spirit had been waiting for that and it slammed him into a chair where he was trapped.

Mary shook her head. "I just wanted a family. Leave them alone!"  There was a silent moment and then Mary burst into flames again and then the pressure was gone. 

John searched around. "Mary!" He called frantically. Sam helped Missouri from behind the furniture while Dean squeezed his arms tight around himself his fingernails digging into the meat of his shoulders. 

It was obvious Mary and the poltergeist were gone. "House is empty except for us John." The psychic put a hand on his shoulder.

Sam pulled Dean into his arms and squeezed him tightly. "Easy Dean." Sam murmured. His brother made no response but the clawing into his skin eased up and after a few moments the shorter man pulled away that horrified glean shining in his eyes. Sam hated that look. Dean always felt ashamed after he suffered a sensory overload. Luckily this one had just begun and they'd calmed his nerves enough for him to regain composure.

It still didn't make it any less embarrassing for the man. 

"What did she mean?" Sam turned to their father. It was time for answers.

"Just what she said. She wanted to leave the hunting world, and to get out she made a deal with a demon. A deal that gave him permission to enter our house twenty-two years ago."

Suddenly the room was cold and heavy. Dean and Sam sat on the couch while Missouri meddled in the kitchen

John paced.

His sons recognized it as a preparation to explain some hard and painful truths.

"Boys, I dug hard. Even researched your mother's family. If I hadn't found out about the Campbell line I would have never learned the truth. And I have been avoiding you because I don't know how to explain this."

Two sets of eyes landed on his face in a silent plea to go on. The green pair skitters off after a few moments but that was all he needed from his sons to keep going.

"A yellow eyed demon killed your mother. He held her deal.  A deal that let him come into our home and poison you Sam. He gave you something that should have never entered your body." The man's fists shook with rage.

"What?" Sam asked in a hushed tone.

"Demon blood." The father answered numbly.

"What?" Dean frowned. "Why?"

"To make a perfect leader for some war against Heaven." John sighed and sank into a recliner. 

Sam looked at his feet. "I have demon blood in me?" It wasn't really a question to anyone in the room. Silence filled the spaces between them like a thick suffocating syrup.

Dean fidgeted with his hands running them over the soft fabric of the couch back and forth. "What does that mean?" 

"It means that Sam is one of God knows how many poor kids were infected so that he can find the proper one. He has to pick the best for some mission he himself can't complete." John sounded like he wanted to say more but there was no more information available to him.

"How did you learn all this?" Sam asked quietly.

"Got it from a demon who spilled his guts when Jim and I got hold of him. We'd been searching for days and when we caught it, the scumbag willing to tell us. Demons lie unless the truth is just as painful." John ran a hand through his hair and down his face.

"What now?" Sam asked suddenly. 

Dean and John looked at him. "Sam?" His brother queried softly.

"How do we stop this yellow eyes? What do we need to do to kill him?" Sam asked in a cold voice. "He's manipulating me. That's why Jess was killed. So I wouldn't have something to fight for. But that makes me want to fight even more. I won't be some pawn in this bastard's game."

John nodded resolutely. He had feared Sam would close himself off and drown in self pity and sorrow. 

Dean stood up. "Guess that means we get headin in whatever direction this yellow eyes was last seen?" 

"No." John said. "I still have some digging. And I don't want you boys near that bastard again. To think he came into our house and touched my son with his disgusting blood is already infuriating. I won't let him get near either of you." He was standing and had pulled Dean and Sam in close to hug them tightly.

"I won't lose the two most amazing boys I know." John whispered for their ears only.

Sam hugged back understanding his father's emotions but once again disagreeing with the man. Seemed they were doomed to always see things differently.

"But this is my fight too." Sam said.

"I never said I wasn't gonna let you boys help. I just don't want you in the thick of it." John replied pulling back. 

"I need you boys to start searching out for other kids like you. Same age as you Sam with psychic abilities. I know you dreamed of this place and I came when I realized it."

"So the demon blood made me psychic?" Sam asked in horror.

"Afraid so." John said sadly. "But let's not worry about that. There are other kids who don't know what's happening. Kids like you who need answers and help. If we can get them to listen and understand before Yellow eyes puts his plan in action, maybe we can slow him down to find a way to kill him."

His sons nodded. He wwasn't going to exclude them from this, he just needed them to do something else. "And don't tell anyone else except Bobby. He's gonna need to know. If you think someone needs more than just a talking to in want you to take them to him. But not another soul. If this gets out hunters might come after you." John said this gently like the words could break glass. 

That's when Dean paled. "Oh shit. They would too." He muttered and hid hand snaked out to Sam's wrist and clamped around it like a vice. "I won't let them." He promised. 

John nodded. "Alright boys. I promise I'll answer from now on. I just didn't know what to say." He looked at his toes in apology.

Sam nodded. "We understand." 

Another family hug, and they were out at the cars. Missouri called Jenny and told her it was safe to return home. John pulled out some Holy Water, and a lot more salt than Sam and Dean usually carried. "Open the trunk." He ordered. Dean did and his father deposited the supplies into the Impala. "Keep safe, if it gets too dangerous call me or Bobby. Be safe and take care of each other."

The boys nodded. "Yes Sir." 

John climbed into his truck and pulled out.

Sam and Dean slid into the Impala and stared. "Want to go back to the motel?" Dean asked. Sam nodded mutely. They pulled out and left their once home behind in the rear view mirror like they had all those years ago.


	6. A Moment to Rest

Bobby Singer had never seen the Winchester boys look so dogged as they did the day they showed up on his porch with answers. Dean explained everything recalling the entire conversation word for word. Sam added in his own ideas about the why and what of the information.

The old hunter pulled off his worn blue baseball cap and sighed heavily as he scratched at his receding hairline. "So you're infected with demon blood and there's more than just you." It wasn't a question.

The boys nodded.

"We won't let Sam near the bastard." Dean growled. 

"And apparently I have to figure out a way to find other kids like me." Sam shrugged in frustration.

"First off." Bobby looked pointedly at Sam. "You need to give yourself time to get a grip on your emotions. You just lost your girlfriend and now you learn you've been supernaturally touched. Take a few days maybe even weeks."

Sam shook his head vigorously. "I don't want to take time. I need to stop Yellow Eyes and fast." 

"You need to deal with your head right now Sam. If you're distracted you ain't gonna be helpful to the others. Besides it will take some time to hunt down these kids. I'll get on it and you can help with the search but you ain't gonna have results by mornin."

Sam frowned but said nothing. After a moment he rose. "I'm gonna shower and then I am going to sleep off the last forty eight hours." 

"Alright Sam, you come down when you're ready for dinner." Bobby said.

Dean watched his little brother trying to figure him out. Once the bathroom door had clicked he turned to the older man. "What do I do?" 

"Kid the only thing I can think of is to be there for him and to let him know that this doesn't change anything between you. You still love your brother right?" Bobby asked.

"Course I do." The younger man answered with a vigorous nod.

"Ok then. You let him know he's not going to be treated any differently and remind him that he's your little brother and it will be alright." 

"Ok Bobby." Dean replied before getting distracted by the TV.

Bobby got up and pulled out some beers listening to the running water above. How in the hell were they supposed to handle this? And how could John deliver this info and then go off again to find the sonuvabitch who did this.

Seemed like the Winchester family just couldn't catch a break.

About ten minutes later he returned to his living room slash study to find the elder boy rocking back and forth violently. His fingers were digging into his shoulders and raking down his muscled arms in a slow methodical way. 

"Aw shit boy, come on now." Bobby approached slowly where Dean could see him. Green eyes flittered on and off his face several times. 

"Skin's too hot, and itchy, and the couch scratches." Dean mumbled as he lowered his head. 

Sam was just coming down to ask something when he saw Dean in the throes of an overload.

"Dean what's wrong?" Sam asked crossing the room in mere minutes.

"He's just had too much, just like you." Bobby answered for him. "Unlike you and me he can't just shrug it off when the shit gets to be too much for him." 

"World's off kilter." Dean growled in exasperation. It took all of five seconds before Sam and Bobby were pressing him into a tight hug for ether side. Pressure had qlways been the fastest way to calm his over stimulated nerves.

Sam sighed heavily. "It's ok Dean. I know you still love me and this doesn't change us. But I don't know what to think. It's like, it's like I've been one thing my whole life and now someone tells me I'm actually this. And how do I handle that?" 

Bobby sighed as his body pressed into Dean's.  It was a wonder he wasn't more off-put by touch but Dean had always seemed ok with physical contact from family and friends he trusted. 

"That's easy." Dean said as his rocking slowed and evened out. "I know how that feels. You just got to remember that the label doesn't define you." The words were familiar. They were the same words Sam had once said when Dean had it especially hard in high school. They'd helped to keep the older brother grounded.

Sam stared wide eyed at his shorter big brother. Of course Dean knew what Sam was feeling. He'd gone through something similar at the age of ten. Had the rug slipped out from under him by a doctor.

But they'd gotten over it and Dean wasn't defined by his Asperger's.  Instead he lived with the symptoms and accepted them as his life but they were not him, only a facet of him. One side of many.

Sam smiled and nodded against his brother's head. "You're right. We know how to deal with this kind of thing. We did it before. Thank you." Sam and Bobby pulled away sensing that Dean was calm again and about to shove them off anyways.

 "Dude no chick flick moments." Dean deadpanned before walking to the kitchen for a beer. He'd never say it out loud but he hated that he needed that kind of help to get through a sensory spike. He always felt like a burden even if his family tried hard to not give off that feeling.

Dean had felt it when Sam went to Stanford or when John had just up and vanished. It wasn't meant to hurt him, but somehow Dean always felt like people grew tired of him.

Sam watched his brother open the beer and take a long swig.  "Dean don't." 

"Don't what?" Green eyes flashed as they breifly passed over Sam.

"Don't push me away because you feel like you're a burden." The younger man replied gently.

"We're here to handle the fact that you're infected with demon blood and I have to go and, and," The half empty beer bottle  came down on the table hard startling Sam. "I can't even be there for you properly." Dean whispered softly. 

"But you are Dean.  What you just said is true. I don't have to let the demon blood be the only thing I see about myself. I'm more than that. And I know that because it's the same for you. Stop looking at your Asperger's Dean.  It's a part of you but it isn't you. You aren't a burden you're my brother. And I need your help to hunt down these demon blood kids. You focus on a hunt better than anyone I know."

Dean looked at him. There was a silent moment and then he smiled wanely. "Yeah ok Sam."

Bobby smiled proud of the way the brothers had learned to actually talk instead of burying it under grief like their father.

 

 


	7. A Fine Way to Start Off

Dean and Sam spent a few weeks with Bobby searching for nursery fires in 1983. Well Sam and Bobby searched for the fires while Dean worked on 'Baby'.  He wasn't without his own stress and he found the work soothing. People confused him with their need to touch and their metaphors he didn't always grasp. But an engine was simple. All engines spoke the same language and it was one that Dean was capable of understanding.

He tinkered on Bobby's Chevelle after the Impala was tuned up. Research wasn't his thing, most people assumed having Asperger's meant he was some super genius with a huge side of antisocial. While he wasn't too keen on strangers he rarely ever displayed any genius level thinking. He could solve problems better than most. Hell he'd come up with rock salt bullets and made his own EMF reader. But reading wasn't his thing. Never had been. 

When Sam announced they had a lead he expected there was no need for anymore desk jockey work. 

So why was he seated at the table with Sam's laptop? Sam had passed it to him and asked him to read the newspaper files of some town where a nursery fire had happened.

"Sam I don't do research." Dean said flatly. His eyes glared at Sam breifly before landing on the computer in front of him. 

"I need you to help, we're collecting data on as many as we can now so we have one planned trip to make. This way well know everything from the get go." Sam knew if he added that they would have a more fleshed out plan Dean would be more copperative. He didn't need to rile up his brother's symptoms so a plan was necessary. Of course asking him to do the dreaded studying might get them a meltdown if they didn't work it just right. 

Dean had already gotten into a schedule while here. He always had schedules, and routines. He always dressed in a certain order, expected breakfast at a certain time, and often refused to do things that weren't planned before hand. 

Elder brother stared at the already prepared laptop. Sam had gathered the links and opened all of them in the order necessary for easy reading. He made no effort to move as though he were stuck.

Sam gave him the puppy eyes. "Please Dean."

Dean blinked and sighed. And then pushed his seat out and walked away. "Not on the schedule." He muttered. 

Sam hung his head in defeat. 

"You can't go asking him for that kind of thing. If he'd known this morning you needed him to read up on some articles he might have said yes." Bobby offered as he stepped in from grabbing beer and pie because it was frigging world war three if Dean didn't get pie for dessert on fridays. Didn't matter any other day of the week. But fridays had always been pie night for some reason.

"It really sucks sometimes." Sam murmured. I love my brother, but the Asperger's makes it hard to do things as they become necessary. I'm always trying to keep from throwing off his delicate balance. I miss Stanford Bobby, my friends and I could do whatever we wanted when we felt like it."

The man shook his head. "You ought to be used to it by now Sam. You know he does his best to hunt. He accepts the changes that come with each case and handles them pretty well."

""But there's still routines and schedules. We have to decide where we're stopping for lunch before we leave. I'd like to stop at some little towns but if they aren't on the list he won't even think to stop." Sam complained. Obviously Dean's inability to help him with research had struck a nerve. 

"Do you ever tell him you'd like to stop?"

"Yeah and he always looks so miserable when we do." Sam shook his head. "Whatever I have to read those other articles now too." 

Bobby walked away to find Dean. If Sam just knew the insecurities his big brother harbored maybe he wouldn't say such things. 

Dean was sitting on the Impala's hood trying to tell himself it was ok to break the routine. Hunting had always been ok, there was a method for going at it. First you found a case, researched, talked to locals or witnesses, checked it out yourself, and finally ganked the thing. Driving to a hunt could easily be planned for stops and an approximate time span could be figured in. 

He ran a hand through his hair. Right now he should have been watching Dr. Sexy M.D. in secret on the upstairs TV. But Sam had broken the routine for the day and now he was on edge. 

"You panicking?" Bobby's gruff voice startled him from his reverie and he glared at the older man's beard. 

"Trying not to." Dean replied. Honesty was his number one enemy. He saw other people lie, like Dad and Sam, but he always had to work it out, usually Sam was already telling the lie while he was still agreeing to himself to lie to someone.

"Sure would be nice to have your help. You usually put together the patterns pretty well." Bobby began.

"I want to, really I do, but he knows how hard it is. I can't, I just can't get past the fact that it's not what I'm supposed to do today." He looked down at his hands helplessly. He'd begun to tap his fingers on the metal beneath him. The therapist had called it a nervous tick. Dean used it as a calming method. "I'm too much work, that's why Sam left and then why Dad left. He didn't take me along because he didn't want to be tied down by my freaking Asperger's."

"Dean." 

"Just shut up!" Dean snapped. He was too strung up. Sam thought he was useless so did Dad. What was he supposed to think? He couldn't be what they needed. "Not flexible enough." He mumbled. "Not, not, not." His hands fisted and rested on the sides of his head. 

Sam had three solid leads now. He could totally get this ready for the road by tomorrow.  Then they could go and talk to these other kids. See if they were psychic too. He had to warn them about Yellow eyes.

After double checking he headed out to find Dean and Bobby. "Hey guys I got a trio of kids we can check out." He announced.

Dean was sitting in an all too familiar pose and Bobby was just standing there. Sam sighed. "Guess it can wait." He grumbled and Bobby shot him a look. 

"Sam be nice."

"I am nice. I love Dean, but I haven't missed these moments."  He replied.

Dean flew off the car. "Worthless!" He shouted before disappearing inside the house.

"Great going." Bobby smacked the back of Sam's head. "He needs your support Sam not your selfish anger. You know he's worried about you? He's so afraid you'll end up thinking of yourself as damaged. He's been trying to tell you that he's here for you and wants to help. Wants to do whatever he can to make sure you're alright. It's not his fault he can't process things the way we do. He's been reading again. I found this under his pillow."

The book he held up was one Sam knew well. It was _How to Cope with a Life Changing Diagnoses._ It was a book John. Had read to them both, explaining the suggested methods for accepting things you couldn't chsnge. Sam felt his gut clench. Maybe he hadn't given Dean enough credit. Dean wasn't avoiding anything he was just trying to be there for Sam.  

Dean didn't need to read to help Sam. He'd be there unwavering in his love and support and he'd go with Sam and talk to complete strangers so they could fight Yellow Eyes. Maybe he was funny about schedules and time, but he would put in whatever hours it took to make sure Sam wasn't alone or felt unloved.

Well that just made things so much better. Because now they had the one thing Dean couldn't stand. A misunderstanding.  And a pretty epic one at that. 

 

 


	8. A Job that Needs Doing

Sam spent the next few hours trying to put together the last details for a trip to track down demon blood kids. He knew better than to try talking to Dean.  It would make things worse until he was ready to discuss things. 

What Sam didn't want was his brother to pull away and shut down. It was a truly infuriating experience when Dean would close off and retreat to his own world. 

So Sam worked and researched and read and tried his best to not be angry with his brother. Besides he'd obviously struck a nerve, unintentionally, but then again maybe he'd wanted Dean to hear how frustrating he was.

It took Dean an hour of humming Metallica and sitting in the dark closet before he was calm again. He needed to process what Sam had said now. 

Dean was a burden. Sam made it clear by announcing that he hadn't missed his brother's meltdowns. Dean struggled to think of a way to talk to Sam. Talking was too hard, Sam wanted too much from him. And was probably still mad at him for losing his shit. Didn't matter that he couldn't control it. Most people saw it as an annoying wweakness and so did Sam.

Sam was his brother. The one he could always trust to have his back. Right? So why did he feel like Sam wasn't there for him? Because he obviously wasn't.  Dean ruminated on these feelings for a while.

 Dean surfaced for dinner. 

Bobby greeted him with a nod and gave Sam a pointed look. 

"Dean, I need to apologize." Sam began as he stared at his plate of meatloaf. 

Dean stiffened. He breifly acknowledged his brother with a passing glance and then looked at his plate without saying a word. 

Sam took this as permission to go on. "I didn't mean what I said. Not really, I was just frustrated with how this search is going. It's hard and stressful and I hate thinking about approaching these kids and telling them they're not normal." Sam sighed. "Dean you're my brother and I love you, and I know it's not easy for you, I guess spending a few years away, I just kind of forgot."

"Forgot?" Dean parroted flatly. 

"I know, it's a pretty lame excuse. But I really do need your help. You're better at reading people than I am, he'll you're a better hunter than I am."  Sam picked up his fork and poked his dinner. Bobby watched in silence eating slowly.

Dean took a deep breath and then started talking. "I don't see how you can forget that I'm the neuro divergent one. You're normal Sam, you don't have trouble talking to strangers, doing things on a whim, or even making eye contact. But me? Hell I can't even look at you right now." 

"I'm not normal Dean, I have demon blood and yeah it's really getting to me. I don't know how to do what Dad asked us to without getting worked up about the fact that Yellow Eyes infected me. And for what reason? I'm just under a lot of stress. You know how that feels. I never meant to snap at you." 

"You snapped at Bobby about me." Dean corrected. 

"Yeah and those words should have never left my mouth." Sam's voice was tinged with regret. He wished he could have taken them back. But time didn't work that way so Sam had to just go forward from here. And this time he needed to chill and remember that he wasn't the only person with needs.

"If that's how you feel-" Dean started. He never did get telling people things you didn't mean. If you said it aloud than you wanted someone to hear it.

"No it isn't how I feel. I love you, I care about you and it gets hard sometimes but I wouldn't trade you for anyone." Sam interupted keeping his voice level. 

"Not even Jess?" Dean asked quietly.

Sam nodded solemnly, "Yeah even her." 

"You mean that?" Dean's eyes finally landed on Sam's mole. He needed to know Sam was still there for him. He'd missed hunting with someone. At least then he'd never had to do much talking. And he didn't want to watch Sam go alone, Sammy couldn't do this alone. Surely someone would be waiting for him to make a move. 

 "Yeah Dean I mean it." Sam caught his brother's eyed momentarily. He smiled apologetically and then they both turned to dinner and started eating.

Bobby shook his head. He was too old for this shit. Dean having Asperger's was a challenge enough, now Sam had demon blood I'm him? He'd been researching for anything but it was a deadend. The only thing to go on was nursery fire. While it narrowed it down the hunter wondered if maybe there were other signs they were missing. Cause at the moment four kids weren't very many.

He'd have to keep digging.

 

Sam explained his findings to Dean the next morning. From that they mapped out the best trip they could with stops and breaks along the way. Road travel was hard to time but Dean had learned to break it down by miles instead of hours and that worked well. 

"What are you going to say to them?" Dean asked while his head was bent over a map. 

"I think I'm just going to talk to them about unusual happenings, strange histories, make something up about nursery fires having some kind of connection." Sam shrugged.

Dean nodded and pulled away from the map. "That sounds plausible.  Just try to refrain from being all touchy feely about it.  You have to make it clear that someone's after them if they are psychic and show them how to defend against it."

"Dean they'd have to know it's caused by demons then."  Sam replied in horror.

"And knowing what you are up against is half the battle."  Dean rejoined. 

Sam nodded slowly. "If they can handle the truth ok." He said finally.  Dean merely grunted in acknoedgement and then folded up the map.  

"Well I guess we better get packed up." Sam said turning away to get ready.

It took a couple hours to pack up and load up. Dean packed everything they would need for dealing with demons. He checked off the mental list of supplies, "Salt, paint, excorisms..." He mumbled to himself as he loaded everything up.

Bobby had shown them how to draw devils traps. It was a kind of pentagram that would hold a demon trapped if they walked within its circle which they could do without ever even knowing it. 

At dawn they said their goodbyes promising to keep in touch and to call him and Dad if things got too hard for them. Sam said he was ok and that he wouldn't let the demon blood poisoning mess with his head. 

"You idjits be careful now." Bobby hugged Sam and then Dean. 

Bobby waved them off as Dean pulled out of the yard and the Impala vanished. He watched wearily, hoping those two would be alright. 


	9. Mind Control, The Impala, and Twice the Psychics

Andy Gallagher was not Dean's favorite person. In fact he was the exact opposite. 

Nobody had ever asked for and then taken the Impala from Dean Winchester before. But something weird happened when the shorter, easy-to-snap like a twig young man asked him if he could have the hunter's pride and joy. Something that made Dean nod and handover the keys while getting out of a car loaded with weapons of the usual nature and the occult. 

To say Dean was pissed would be putting it lightly.

Sam saw the punk riding by and called his big brother fearing that the worst had happened.  Thankfully his brother answered but Dean was not making much sense at first. He interupted Dean's frantic rant. 

"Andy is driving the Impala." Sam said when Dean answered.

"I know. Asked for it, gave it to him." Dean spluttered.

"What?" Sam couldn't understand. 

"Obi-Wan!" Dean shouted back. "Mind control, Andy has mind control." His agitation was more than critical already. Nobody touched the car without Dean's express permission. It was one of those things he was funny about.

"Well that explains you giving up your car." Sam muttered. 

"He has my car Sam! MY CAR!"  The screeching yell forced the younger brother to pull the phone from his ear. 

"Calm down Dean. Breath, focus on what you need to do to get back to me." 

Sam knew this was a bad situation and they needed to find Andy and get the car back now. 

"Dad gave it to me. Said it was my responsibility. I'm supposed to look after it! It's the only thing Dad ever trusted me to look after by myself!" Dean wasn't shutting up and Sam could hear his breathing turning ragged. If they didn't get to Andy and get the car back they were toast.

Dean had one of those unique to people on the spectrum attachments to the Impala. It was more than a car for him. It was a safe zone, a place he often vanished to when something was bothering him. For the older brother it held a sense of  _home._

And that meant Andy had just stolen Dean's metaphorical security blanket. 

Like Sam needed this right now. 

"Hey that's not the only thing Dad left you in charge of. Every time he left us for a hunt who was responsible for me?" Sam asked. He needed to calm Dean enough for him to be capable of driving again. 

 "I was." The muttered reply was soft and distant. Dean was trying to calm himself. That was good. Sam talked a few more minutes until he was sure his big brother wasn't going to panic again.  "He left his van, I'll meet up with you soon." 

Dean drove Andy's van back into town and met up with Sam. "Dean?" Sam asked as his brother got out of the ridiculous vehicle.

"Don't touch me." Dean snapped at Sam's cautiously outstretched hand. He'd always been defensive when thuroughly ticked off. 

"Ok." Sam pulled back holding his hand up in surrender.  "Let's go find the Impala." Sam suggested.

Andy grinned a little bit when they approached. But Dean was ready to get violent. "Give me back my car!" He roared. 

Andy paled a little at the tone. 

 "Trust me on this, give him back his car." Sam said evenly. He wanted to put a hand on his brother's shoulder to tether him to something a little more logical but that would probably be the proverbial straw. 

"Dude chill. Here." He offered Dean the keys and when the hunter snatched them their hands brushed. Dean flinched back and tucked his hand against his chest pressing it tight to calm the overactive nerves.

Andy watched a little surprised. "Are you ok?" There was curiosity in his eyes and given long enough he might have been able to figure the elder hunter out. But Sam wasn't about to let Andy screw with Dean anymore.

"He's fine." Sam closed the gap and loomed over the psychic. "So tell me why you stole my brother's car?" 

"He gave it to me." Andy tried to make Sam believe it was truth. But for some reason the power didn't work on Sam 

"Made me give it to him." Dean corrected quickly.  

Andy frowned when Sam kept talking.

"Dean doesn't give up his car that easily. You control minds I get it. But what you did was wrong. And what about the woman at the gas station?" 

"What woman?" Andy frowned honestly unsure. Sam turned to Dean who shrugged. The guy was telling the truth. 

They talked for a while Dean warily watching Andy for any kind of suspicious movement. Now that Dean couldn't trust the kid he was wary if any and all movements the kid made. He even managed to glare eye to eye with the term for several seconds. 

Sam waited for the questions. 

"Why the third degree? I didn't kill anyone, nor did I force anyone to kill themself. The most I've done is force some jerk I know to sit through gay port all hours of the day." Andy grinned at this. Obviously he found it hilarious.

Sam and Dean didn't. 

"Look. You're psychic for a reason." Sam began. 

"How would you know." Andy asked.

"Cause I'm psychic too. I get visions of people in danger." 

Andy gawped. "Dude no way!"

"It's not a good thing." Sam said. "We're expected to use our abilities for evil." 

"What?" 

"Yellow Eyes." Dean interjected finally. "You see someone with yellow eyes and you run. He's the one responsible and he'll use you for his plan to destroy the world."

"No way. This is silly who put you up to this?" Andy demanded. 

"No one." Sam shook his head sadly, "I'm telling you the truth." 

"I can't see in your mind, and what's with your brother's? It's like it's all disjointed." Andy growled. Obviously Sam was immune to him and now that Andy was actively trying to read Dean's he was becoming more confused. 

"Alright just calm down." Sam suggested. 

Andy bolted then after sending one last impulse at Dean who grabbed Sam for a brief moment. 

Sam pulled away sighing heavily. "Shit." He muttered. How were they supposed to do this?

Dean stood frozen. "I'm sorry Sam." He rubbed his hands against his arms. "I didn't want to, but he made me." 

"It's not your fault. Come on." Sam said throwing a smile at Dean. But the damage was already done. Dean walked behind none of his usual good mood or playful manner anywhere. 

No movie references. And that was a huge tell because Dean always tied everything back to movies. Sam hoped this case would be over soon.

Too bad iwasn't.  

Ansem. Turns out Andy had a twin who was adopted by a different family. Turns out Andy's adoptive mother was killed in a nursery fire when Yellow Eyes went to poison him.

And of course one of these twins just had to be on the Legion of Doom. Ansem was responsible for the killings. And he almost killed someone close to Andy. Except everyone was there on the bridge.

Ansem took a well placed bullet and afterwards Andy apologized. "I totally didn't think it was true."

"It is. You're expected to use your power for evil. If you don't want to than you need to keep a look out for someone with yellow eyes. Like really yellow. Don't let him tell you what to do. Run, and if it gets bad call me." Sam gave him a card with his number.

"But why?" He asked.

"Because I'm in this too and I won't listen to the bastard." Sam answered sincerely. Andy nodded. 

"Look I'm sorry Dean." The psychic said throwing a small smile at the Hunter. Dean just shrugged it off and remained quiet. 

"He doesn't say much does he?" 

"Hah. He's not that quiet, usually." Sam rejoined. 

Dean rolled his eyes and turned away to get out of there. There were far too many police around. They needed to move on anyways. 

"He wasn't that bad." Sam tried when they were in the car. 

"Stole my car." Was all Dean could manage through tight lips. Sam chuckled ad the engine roared to life and they left. 


End file.
